


Putting Out the Fire

by cutthroatpixie



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Metaphors are literal in Night Vale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutthroatpixie/pseuds/cutthroatpixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you are both still alive when the flames go out, that is how you know the love is true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting Out the Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jitterbugfever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jitterbugfever/gifts).



The first noticeable spark ignites while Carlos is sitting on the hood of his car in the Arby's parking lot. Cecil has just leaned in and rested his head on Carlos' shoulder (quietly, confidently, as if it was the most natural thing for him to do) and he chalks it up to his injuries. The other shoulder is really the one that is injured, the flesh slightly charred and still covered in drying blood, but he feels a dull ache throughout his whole body, feels each pin-prick wound in nearly every nerve ending he has. So the spark is noticed, yes, but it isn't anything he thinks he has to worry about.

He doesn't ask Cecil to move. Doesn't say anything as intermittent pains burn deep within his chest.

Doesn't notice that with each flicker of his own heart, Cecil jerks ever so slightly against his side.

\---

Carlos' chest throbs the entire time he is on the phone with Cecil and he might be worried if it weren’t for the fact that the sinking, anxious twinge in his stomach pulses right along with it. He wants to smack himself the second, "I am calling for personal reasons," rushes past his lips, wants to hang up after whatever the hell it is he said about the strange source of energy, but he doesn't. He's glad he doesn't, because Cecil doesn't hang up either and after some major stumbling on his part and what he is pretty sure is saintly amounts of patience on Cecil's part (but which might also have been the click of the mute button as Cecil squeals with joy, just maybe) they have a date arranged for later that night.

The throb doesn't go away while he goes about his day. It doesn't stop while he gets ready, doesn't let up when he hears some strange, yet soothing, rhythm being tapped against the front door to his lab. He ignores it. He thinks the sharp pain he feels when he sees Cecil standing by the door in bright orange furry pants must be some sort of second-hand embarrassment tinged with affection. He thinks the dull burning he feels during the car ride over to Gino's and all through dinner is certainly excitement, a little nervousness, a little exasperation with himself for his entirely unsmooth small talk.

He knows exactly what it is when he kisses Cecil goodnight (at least he thinks he does) and he never considers the fire within his heart to be a bad thing. Not that night, in any case.

\---

After their third date, which he spends sweating and thinking he is most likely having a heart attack, he certainly _does_ consider whatever is going on in his chest cavity to be something of the negative variety.

Teddy Williams (who he still isn't quite convinced has a fully valid medical license) laughs at him as if he thinks Carlos is the deranged one when Carlos calls round to see if he knows what might be causing his symptoms. "No need to brag," he says. "The whole town already knows about you and Cecil."

"What does Cecil have to do with this?" He notes the spark, but still can't figure out what has caused it, and he lets Teddy know this.

A deep, throaty chuckle is all he gets for his troubles. "Good luck there, lover boy," is the last thing Teddy says before he hangs up, leaving Carlos more confused than ever.

He guesses he's probably not dying, at the very least. That doesn't ease his mind, nor his chest, but it's something.

\---

It's as if fireworks are exploding within him and he can do nothing but sit back and enjoy the show. It's not healthy, surely it can't be, but Cecil's mouth is— _oooh_ — and his hands are— _oh dear—_ and his _tongue._

Cecil presses a hand to his chest, his burning, aching chest, and lets it rest there for a moment. Carlos wonders if Cecil can feel the tremors he isn't so sure are actually real. When Cecil brings Carlos' hand up to his own chest all he feels is warmth. Delightful, comforting warmth and he assumes that is what Cecil feels as well, because there is a (metaphorical?) fire burning inside him and the popping and crackling is all within his mind and

Cecil smiles at him, bright as the moon whose existence he doubts, scorching as any flame, real or imagined. Carlos forgets any thoughts of forest fires or deserts or nuclear wars figuratively (?) occurring within him and he just

Is.

Until everything cools down as their bodies glisten with sweat and they have to chase down the comforter that has fled (giggling, Carlos swears there was giggling) from Cecil's bed.

\---

He feels like he's forgetting something, but he shrugs it off and types up the results of the tests he'd run on some glowing sand one of his team members had found outside their lab that morning.

He runs a hand over his chest, trying to still that ever present burn that has (fortunately or unfortunately, he isn't quite sure) been dulling as the days go by.

His phone starts buzzing, angrily (he's discovered that is definitely not all in his head) and when he sees who is calling, he _knows_ he's definitely forgotten something.

"Cecil? I'm— "

"Still in your lab."

"Yes?"

A crackle.

Cecil mumbles something, not in English or Spanish or any other language Carlos can think of off the top of his head, and then says, louder, "Should I cancel our reservation or do you think you can rush over here fast enough so that we can still make it?"

"Make it?" Silence and then, "Oh."

A laugh. Maybe annoyed. Certainly not cheerful. "Yes, _oh_. I understand you're busy, but maybe you could stop doing important, sciencey tests on nights we're supposed to go out? This is the third time."

A throb.

"You're not any better," he says, not in his head like he'd completely meant to, but out loud. Cecil doesn't respond and he continues, "You cancelled the last one."

"I texted to let you know." He's definitely annoyed now. "Station Management was tired of the old sponsorship ads and wouldn't let me out of my booth until I recorded new ones."

"I know that. I." He runs a hand through his hair. He saves the document he's working on. He doesn't bring up the time Cecil forgot to meet him for lunch because TBS was playing a _Married With Children_ marathon. "We can probably still make it. I'll just meet you at the..."

"Oceanid Underwater Sea Food Joint."

"...It's not really underwater, is it?"

Cecil actually laughs that time and his chest cools, just a bit. "Don't be ridiculous. But do bring your scuba gear, since they like to turn the oxygen off sometimes. All part of the experience!"

His lungs burn just thinking about that, but he knows at least that burning is a normal response.

\---

They are in the middle of a not-really-argument over (of all things) whether or not the soliloquising lamp Cecil has picked out for their apartment is really necessary when, with a fizzle and one last flaming roar, the burning stops altogether.

Cecil stops talking (unlike the lamp).

Carlos runs absentminded fingers over the now still spot.

"Oh my." Cecil's voice is filled with wonder. "I knew it was dying down, but I didn't think it would completely go out right _now_."

"You. What?"

"This is such good news! And we're both still alive, oh, this is just wonderful!" Cecil discards the lamp, nearly tossing it on the shelf from whence it came, and kisses Carlos full on the mouth.

He has no idea what Cecil is talking about, but that is something that happens often enough that Carlos doesn't even think about stopping the kiss to ask for clarification.

He doesn't need to ask anyway, though he won't know this until later. He knows the fire in his heart has burnt out. He also knows, somehow, that this isn't a bad thing, because the cooled, loving embers it has left behind are there to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who cares, this was inspired by a quote on [this page](http://godslittleacre.net/funnies/kids3.html), that then inspired the following conversation:
> 
> Me: hearts on fire in night vale  
> Friend: Sounds terrifying  
> Me: terrifyingly romantic  
> Friend: Ahaha sounds about right  
> Me: fuck yeah  
> Friend: Best romance  
> Me: if you are both still alive when the flames go out that is how you know the love is true  
> Friend: Truth. If not you don’t have to worry about it anymore


End file.
